DISCLAIMER: I do not own
A/N: Dam! Every time I go to write for one of my ongoing fics for Doctor my mind just goes blank. Perhaps it's stress from the ten assignments per week my college has thrown at me, or perhaps it's the fact that every time I think of the show I get all down because of the angels take Manhattan. So I thought hey ho - lets get on with some requests - some light hearted requests - that'll cheer you up. Enough of my life story! - hope you enjoy.
Based on Holding out for a hero. Requested by Jokergirl4ever . Not sure when this is set in The Doctor and River's timeline. You can make your own mind up on that.
The Doctor was watching his wife from a distance, heart spinning out of kilter. She was fast asleep, curled up into a frightened ball. Her features were stony, and filled with anger, her muscles tense, and her breathing nothing but a shallow melody of four. She looked lost and terrified, and it was killing him, because at the end of the day this was his fault, all of it was. Whatever pain she was in was bound to be down to him in one form or another. Her life had been quite literally bent into a shape that fitted around his own life, like molten metal being bent into a specific shape, and it was all of his fault. He'd bred fear into the hearts of thousands, and in turn River's life had been nothing but manipulated from her first breath.
Leaning down he hovered his lips over her skin, and kissed her delicately on the edge of where her unruly curls began to flood out, uncertainty racing through his veins. He was about to do something that he considered as wrong and intrusive. He was going to enter River's mind. He had to know what was bothering her, so maybe he could fix her. He was The Doctor, fixing things came as part of the description, and if he couldn't fix the love of his life, what use was he? He placed both of his thumbs on the side of her temples, and began to push his mind into hers as painlessly, and inconspicuously as he could. He immediately felt a rush of cold pain stab through him. River was just a lost little girl here. She was so lonely, and so afraid, and numb. She felt unloved, and was bitter at the world and everyone in it. He watched an image of her tottering about in the cold, tears dripping down her cheeks, hair knotted in huge clumps, covered in dirt, so young, a child without a childhood. He hated seeing children cry, but this child wasn't any child, this child was River, his wife, the woman who his hearts belonged to, the most fantastic woman he'd ever had the pleasure to know. He pulled away, and gazed on sorrowfully as his wife tossed and turned in her restless sleep, " Oh River." He exhaled,
" I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Backing away he pulled at his dark wave of hair till even the pain pulsing through his nerves withered away. He had to fix this - somehow - but how?
It was then that he had a sudden and abrupt 'eureka! ' moment. River shouldn't have had to be alone, and she wouldn't be. Acting on impulse, he scribbled a note to the his wife explaining that he was going out for a bit, and then began to run. He couldn't rewrite time, not this time, but he could give hope to a little girl. Hope - something that he'd learnt was so important, and yet so hard to come by, and even harder to hold onto.
A little girl staggered through the dark streets of New York - she can't remember her name - she can't remember anything - no wait there's something - a man - a man that isn't a man - an inhuman being - an evil force of nature - the man that she knew but didn't know - the man that one day she'd kill.
A small but purposeful frown scarred her forehead, her eyes were set deep within her skull, her tiny ears were filled with the unsteady noise of her heart pitter -pattering against her chest.
The Doctor - a being of upper authority - two hearts of fire - a intellect that outweighed every God that every religion in existence had created - he saw the universe through two very dangerous and ancient eyes - and she was going to kill him - she'd been ordered to kill him - by who? She didn't know - she didn't care.
As she stared up at the sky she wondered what lay out there in the universe. The stars seemed to mock her with their beauty. She'd never see them up close, she'd never travel within them. She wished that someone would whisk her away and show her the universe, so that she could touch the twinkling dots of light, but she knew that it was simply impossible, she was stuck, alone, and she shall forever stay that way.
Who would want to save an orphaned girl anyway?
Footsteps clanked out into the cool night air, and the slow tendrils of fear that she was now indulged in twisted around her lungs, making even the simple task of breathing impossible.
A shadow pressed itself into her vision, a beam of light rushed from the leering figure, like an aura of righteousness . Her breath was given off in short sharp spurts, and she was trembling from her tiny fingers to her suddenly jelly like legs. Fear had always been a constant in her life, but this was a different kind of fear, more primal than anything.
" It's OK. Don't be afraid" The voice belonging to the moving shadow was soft and filled with kindness - it was the voice of an angel. Her blood boiled - it was the first bit of kindness that she'd ever received - that she can remember anyway.
" Who - are you?" She questioned the stranger.
Now that she could see him, he didn't look that scary. He looked kind of odd though. However that oddity about him made him look rather sweet and sincere, " Me? I'm John - Song - John Song." A smirk was tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he let out a heart chuckle, as though finding something incredibly amusing.
" What do you want?" She asked.
" I want you to know something. " He crouched down low, and whispered something into her ear. She immediately collapsed into his arms. The word that he'd spoken was foreign yet felt so familiar within her mind. The word filled her with a feeling of warmth and safety, it flowed over her, encompassed her, and rocked her safely in it's arms.
When she awoke John Song was gone and she wasn't in New York anymore. She was in a small, rather quaint town - also known as Leadworth. A boy and a girl passed her - her parents - they were so young - they didn't know her - not yet- but they were her family - and she was finally not alone.
She waited for years for the man who'd rescued her to turn up, and when he did it was in the form a mad old man - a mad old ' definitely hot ' man called The Doctor - the man she was supposed to murder.
The Doctor stumbled into the TARDIS and headed straight to his and his wife's bedroom. He was exhausted. The word he'd spoken to young Melody Pond had drained him completely. He flopped down onto the bed head first, taking an admiring glance at his now peacefully sleeping wife before closing his eyes.
It was then that his alarm clock decided to ring shrilly, signalling a brand new day on the TARDIS . He groaned, banging his fist down on the foul piece of primitive machinery. A sultry laugh tickled the back of his neck, and warm arms pulled at him. He rolled over, and immediately found his whole body smothered in a healthy dosage of River. Her unruly curls tickled him as her lips attacked his own, " Thank you." She whispered through the kiss, " Thank you sweetie - my hero." She nipped playfully at his neck, raising her eyebrows in amusement as his back arched, and a involuntary purring sound ripped through his chest, " John Song?" She questioned, " I like it. Though not as much as the word you told me on that day. Do you know what a word like that does to a girl?" She trailed her fingers down his chest.
" I can only imagine - " He replied hoarsely, " Was it worth it though? Waiting for me?" He asked in a high pitched voice.
" Oh completely my love." She eyed him in such a way that he could practically feel his clothes melting away.
The only thing racing through his mind now was " I'm quite a screamer."
He had a funny feeling that he was about to find out just how loud a screamer River was.
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